


And maybe I'll get drunk again (to feel a little love)

by samemistakes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, M/M, Spin the Bottle, harry's a bit damaged inside, he's also afraid of being himself, louis will fix that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samemistakes/pseuds/samemistakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You seem like the withdrawn type, Harry Styles."</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Harry briefly wonders how the other boy knows his name, but he doesn't ask. He sees the dare in Louis' eyes though.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Do I?" he responds instead, causing Louis' grin to widen again.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Indeed," he says, and then he's sliding down until he's sitting on the cold stone, patting a hand on the ground next to him, beckoning Harry to take a seat.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>or, niall has a party and everyone gets drunk and they play truth or dare. harry likes blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And maybe I'll get drunk again (to feel a little love)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ed Sheeran's "Drunk"
> 
> I don't know, I liked writing this because Harry's not always the very insecure-about-his-sexuality type and he's not always blunt and maybe he does sleep around but out of another reason and I liked him to be a little different this time, even though Louis isn't like that either.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction and nothing of the mentioned actually took place in reality.

It's a rough night, but Harry likes those. He's still at the bar, and there's still this girl pressed up to his side, her slim fingers tangled into into the hem of Harry's black Ramones shirt, and she smells nice, like perfume and strawberry shampoo, but there's still the biting haze of vodka floating around her long blonde curls, and when she turns around to shoot him another bright, drunken grin, it hits his face and he struggles not to cringe. Her breast is too curvy and her hair is too long and she wears too much lipstick, and Harry knows what he misses, but he's not ready to admit it. Neither to himself nor to anyone else, but god, it gets too much gradually. She tumbles a bit, and when she looks at him again, her eyes get a little out of focus, and that's when Harry knows it's time. Maybe he's an asshole sometimes, but at least he is a considerate one.

"Hey, time to get you home, huh?," he whispers, and the girl giggles, tugging him closer by his shirt. Nudging her nose in the light dark fabric, she says "you don't waste any time, do you, handsome?"

She giggles again, and Harry has to prevent himself from groaning.

He forces a smile instead, getting a light grip of her biceps and pulling her away gently.

"I'll call you a cab."

He receives no answer in return, so he just drags her to a corner that is stuffed with almost empty pleather seats, pushing her down onto one of them and darting forward when she nearly falls off.

God, he hadn't had one of those in weeks. But he couldn't even be really annoyed at the thought of not getting laid tonight, and yeah, he knows why, but he doesn't want to think about it. Not now. Not ever.

When he pulls out his phone to type in the number of the cab service, he sees the two missed calls and a new text message.

Harry can't help the laughter that escapes his mouth as his eyes skim over the message. He can literally imagine Zayn sitting across from the short, fair-haired girl, an uneasy look on his features as he spares her occasional side-glances. He contemplates for a moment, his eyes wandering to the girl whose skin had adopted an unhealthy yellowish undertone; then he casts a look at his watch - it's only after 1 AM, and he's really not in the mood to be on his own in the hours before his mind lets him rest for a while, and that won't be before 6 AM, he knows as much.

So he replies with a quick

After that, 10 minutes later, he finds himself outside, the girl whose name he still doesn't know clinging onto his arm, whispering and giggling and in the end, even vomiting a bit onto the sidewalk. The people that pass by are far too wasted to cast them any looks in disgust, and as Harry shoves the girl onto the backseat, he makes sure to hand the driver an extra generous tip.

Niall's flat is only a few blocks away, so he begins to trot his way eastwards past a bus station and the popular restaurant passage that is empty at this time of the night.

Even though he's a few hundred metres away by now, there's still laughing audible, as well as the blasting music coming from the club he just left. He doesn't do that kind of thing often, going to a club by himself. Usually he takes some mate from one of his classes with him, sometimes Niall because he gets far more pissed than Harry and is fun and uncomplicated, and he used to take Zayn way more often, but he's not that outgoing anymore since he met some blonde bird in his art class.

But tonight, he really felt the urge to leave. His flat seemed stifling and there were only re-runs of Desperate Housewives on TV as well as an Asian cooking show, and Harry ended up throwing the remote control at the telly.

That's Harry's thing. Nobody knows, and Harry can't deal with it, nobody is even _supposed_ to know. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never talk about it to anyone, but gradually, he feels like he's suffocating. He doesn't even know what being himself means anymore.

There's light streaming through the window of Niall's kitchen as Harry comes closer - he's on the first floor. There are also muffled voices speaking, a girl's high-pitched squeak, followed by bellowing laughter that strongly sounds like a familiar Irish fellow.

Harry only has to press the bell once before the buzz sounds, and after the short flight of stairs, he's faced with strong arms pulling him into a cheery hug and a mop of blonde hair in his mouth.

"Harry, mate, come in, get comfy! Always a pleasure to see ya!", Niall exclaims with a pat on Harry's back, and then Harrys laughing, all his limbs feeling lighter. He had not even noticed how tense he was.

The living room consists of a sort of seedy black pleather couch with a small table in front of it, opposites a large flatscreen TV with a Playstation on top, a few shelves filled with random stuff, a guitar leaning in a corner, and right now, people sprawled on cushions that have randomly been thrown onto the floor.

Zayn's sitting on the one closest to the door, and when Harry enters the room, he breaks forth, a relieved expression on his features, and Harry only has to cast one single glance over his shoulder to identify the girl with a baffled wasted look on her face.

"Harry! Great to see you, mate, good to know you made it!" He pulls him into a one-armed hug. Zayn always smells kind of unique, like a mixture of cologne and smoke and his expensive shampoo that he forbids Harry to ever use when he crashes at his flat.

Harry snickers into his ear, quietly whispering "couldn't let you down when you poor lad are about to get laid, can I?", and Zayn's digging his elbow into Harry's side, and a brief thought's crossing Harry's mind, that maybe, this is better than taking home another blonde girl that he really doesn't care about.

Then Niall comes back with another bottle of booze (god knows where he got that from), and the two boys pull him down onto an empty cushion, and right as Harry downs his first shot, he enters the room.

He only sees blue eyes and feathery hair and curvy hips, and then he's chocking.

He feels like blacking out for a bit, maybe a few seconds, and then there's the feeling of strong pats on his back, Zayn's concerned voice in his ear, asking if he's alright.

Well, he is. He only coughs a bit more when his view is clear again, and when he looks up, the blue eyes are framed by crinkles as a slow smirk spreads across his features.

"Y'alright, mate?" he asks carefully, and fuck, that wanker, Harry literally hears his voice dripping with amusement.

He doesn't trust his own voice already though, so he just nods.

Blue-Eyed Boy visibly tries to contain his expression as he simply nods in return, squeezing into the empty spot on the couch between a girl Harry hasn't ever seen and another girl he knows from his law class. Jade he thinks is her name, or Jane. He doesn't know. What's far more important is what the name of Blue-Eyed Boy is, that is.

He gets snapped out of his daze when Niall hands him another shot, clearly not caring that Harry just helped suffocating. He takes it though, not able to tear his gaze off Blue-Eyed Boy for the following minutes.

He's talking to the girl Harry doesn't know, and just out of the blue, he turns his face to Harry, eyes directly staring into his, and his eyes twinkle a bit, and Harry feels like drowning.

He takes another shot.

Half an hour later, his view's already got a bit blurry around the edges, and he's got his head resting in Zayn's lap, the other boy's fingers idly brushing through his curls.

"Who's that?" he asks with a lazy nod in Blue-Eyed Boy's direction. Zayn briefly looks up, the down at Harry again, an amused tug added to his lip's corners.

"Who?"

"You know who, prick."

Zayn laughs, slapping Harry's cheek lightly before he continues to caress his hair.

"That's Louis. Drama major."

"Ah." Harry makes an effort not to lift his eyelids to meet Zayn's gaze. He's the only one who's clearly suspecting something. Harry doesn't let people suspect, and this way, it's kind of an unspoken accepting going on between them. A silent agreement that no matter what situation was to come, neither of them would say it. Ever.

"He's 23."

"Great."

"He likes long walks on the beach, cats, sappy theatre-"

"I don't care Zayn, shut the fuck up."

He doesn't hear Zayn's little huff of laughter, only feels it sending vibrations through his head.

Suspecting obviously isn't the right word. Harry fucking loves Zayn so much.

After what seems like another twenty minutes, Niall decides to change the music to some electro-dubstep shit, and Harry groans as he emerges from the shelter of Zayn's lap. He blinks a bit, casting his glance around. Blue-Eyed Boy had disappeared, as well as Mysterious Girl Whose Name He Still Doesn't Know and Liam, who hadn't been approachable the entire evening because his lips were a bit preoccupied, and by all means, that's so rare that Harry hadn't dared to interrupt.

"I'm going for a smoke," he announces for only Zayn to hear, considering Niall's showing off a drunk chicken dance with the others cheering at him, Josh spilling a bit of his drink onto the cushion he's sitting on.

"'lright," Zayn replies, sitting back a bit so that Harry can stand up.

When he's walking to the kitchen to grab his cigarettes out of his coat pocket that he'd carelessly tossed there earlier, he bumps into a girl sitting on the kitchen counter, Liam standing between her legs, one hand shoved under her top.

They're so drunk and into it that they don't even notice him, and a few seconds later he's already through the door again, strolling in direction of Niall's bedroom to get to the balcony.

When he opens the glass door, he detects another pair of heavily entangled limbs and sloppy sounds and oh god, no, really.

This couple though breaks apart, and now he notices that it's Niall and Jade/Jane, and how Niall made it that fast from chicken dancing to snogging is beyond Harry.

"Sorry, was just going for a fag, you guys proceed there," he grins, and then he's stepping through the door back into the flat without exchanging another word.

Sighing, he slips into his coat and leaves through the front door, making sure to leave it ajar so that he could return later.

♡

Outside it's chilly, and his breath leaves in misty clouds, fading into the night air. It's only October, but it had already been snowing in Cheshire, so his mother had told him in one of her messages he hadn't replied to. He hasn't been home in a long time.

He searches for a lighter in his pockets, pulling out his keys, the packet of cigarettes, a few bank notes and scattered wrapping paper, but no lighter.

"God dammit," he mumbles, leaning back against the brick wall of the building.

"You looking for fire?" a voice next to him suddenly asks, and as Harry turns his head, there's blue eyes looking up at him.

"You," he says before he can help it.

Louis grins.

"Me," he approves. "You need fire?"

"Yeah." Harry reaches for the lighter Louis holds out for him. It takes three attempts to get his cigarette lightened, and Harry grows slightly annoyed under Louis' intense gaze.

When he eventually manages, he briefly closes his eyes, inhaling the smoke deeply into his lungs.

It's silent for a little while, and when Harry casts another side-glance at the smaller boy, he's still staring.

For some reason, that's only increasing Harry's annoyance, but he doesn't say anything about it. He has the feeling that that is only the other boy's goal, for some weird twisted reason.

"So. What are you doing out here?"

A grin spreads over the other boy's face. What's even so funny, Harry thinks. He feels made fun of.

"What are you doing?"

Harry frowns, pulling his eyebrows together in annoyance.

"Well, don't know if you've noticed, but I'm having a smoke."

"But that's not why you're here, is it." Louis is still grinning, a little less brightly, rather knowingly by now. His features seem soft though, the tiny lamp above the entrance is casting a weak glow over his tanned skin. Harry can't make out his eyes as they're hidden by darkness, but he imagines that they would shine, too.

"What do you mean, that's not why I'm here?"

Louis' leaning back against the door, throwing his head back a little so that his Adam's apple is prominent against the light.

Harry swallows.

"You seem like the withdrawn type, Harry Styles."

Harry briefly wonders how the other boy knows his name, but he doesn't ask. He sees the dare in Louis' eyes though.

"Do I?" he responds instead, causing Louis' grin to widen again.

"Indeed," he says, and then he's sliding down until he's sitting on the cold stone, patting a hand on the ground next to him, beckoning Harry to take a seat.

Harry contemplates that for a bit until Louis cocks an eyebrow, and then he relents reluctantly. He doesn't even know what's going on with him. Louis makes him feel uncomfortable, and the other boy obviously knows and quite enjoys his effect on him.

It's quiet for a bit, only interrupted by the muffled noises from Niall's flat above, and Harry's occasional inhaling of the smoke, the end of the cigarette glowing brighter every time he takes a hit.

"What are you studying, Harry?" Louis hums after a while. His eyelids are shut, and from so close, Harry notices how his dark long lashes fan little shadows across his skin.

"Law and Psychology," he replies, and Louis smiles a bit, not opening his eyes.

"You're a striver, that's what you are, Harold."

"I'm ambitious," Harry says with fake exasperation, "and my name's not Harold."

Louis huffs a little. "Only Harry?" At that, he blinks one eyelid open, turning his head a tad in Harry's direction. "That's a ridiculous name."

"I'm apologising for that." Harry scrunches his nose, and Louis laughs warmly, brushing his forefinger down the bridge of Harry's nose.

He's so close that Harry feels his breath hitting his cheek, and a slow tingle spreads from there down to his toes. He bites the inside of his cheek.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you about personal space towards strangers?" he asks, aiming to be rude to keep decent distance, but Louis only laughs.

"We don't know each other," Harry emphasises for good measure.

"Oh, Harold. Being like you are, you've got to learn that we've known each other for _ages._ " 

♡

After that, they got even more drunk.

Somewhere in between having a FIFA match and a challenge in order to find out who's the best at Macarena, some of Niall's mates have taken off to the petrol station to get more booze, and Harry doesn't remember how he ended up in Calum's lap, laughing about something he doesn't remember either, but it was hilarious. Next to him, Jesy's sitting cross-legged on the couch, wiping tears off her cheek in an attempt to contain her laughter, and when "Mr Vain" blurts through the speakers, Harry is the first to stand up and impersonate a very feminine dance while singing at the top of his voice. When he finishes, everyone's clapping and cheering delightedly, and when Harry casts his glance around, Louis' looking at him with a strange expression, his eyes unreadable, but frankly, Harry's quite too drunk to think about that any more.

"You know what?" Niall says from his corner, slurping his drink. "We should play truth or dare, that's what we should."

He looks around the room. Most of the remaining people shrug, others nod, but no one seems to have something against the suggestion.

"What do you think, Harry?" Louis asks out of the blue.

Harry looks at him. His gaze is still intense, but oddly without any clear expression. Harry swallows a bit before he says "Yeah, sure. Why not."

"Fantastic!" Niall exclaims, scrambling to his feet in order to down the rest of a beer bottle that's lying beside him.

They all get together in a circle, Harry sitting down between Josh and Perrie, who's only arrived after Harry went for a smoke. Now she's half-heartedly sitting in Zayns lap, his hand stroking up and down her thigh, and Harry will blame Zayn if he gets sick during the next minutes.

"Okay, I'm going to be the first to spin since I had the idea!" Niall says, and he's seriously grinning like the cat that got the cream.

The bottle comes to a halt when pointing at Perrie, and Harry's already groaning internally.

"Perrie! Excellent. Truth or dare?"

Perrie casts a side-glance at Zayn, who grins, before she says "dare."

"Oh, brave today, aren't we! Well, I dare you to kiss Jesy."

At this, Harry grins, and he sees the obvious disappointment in Perrie's eyes as she crawls halfway through the inner of the circle, shortly pecking her friend on the lips.

"That wasn't a real kiss!" Niall complains, pulling his eyebrows together.

"Well, be a little more specific next time," Perrie replies as she settles back into Zayn's lap.

When Perrie spins the bottle, it lands on Josh.

"I'll take truth."

Perrie taps her forefinger at her chin as she thinks.

"Have you ever snogged a guy?" She grins a bit as Josh turns red.

"Well, yeah. Yeah, I have."

"No!" Luke exclaims next to him. "When?"

"I was fifteen," Josh mumbles under his breath, and Luke barks out a laugh.

"Oh, come on," Josh says, "as if you lot haven't ever done it!"

He looks around the cirlcle, and Harry is quick to cast his gaze to his lap. When he looks up again, Louis' looking at him. He feels his own cheeks heating up.

"I haven't," Luke ensures him, and Josh only rolls his eyes.

This time, the bottle points at Louis.

Josh rubs his hands maliciously. "Hey, Louis. Truth or dare, what do you pick?"

Louis grins back, easily leaning onto his arms behind him.

"I'll start off easily. Truth, mate."

Josh looks disappointed, not commenting on it though.

"What's your dirtiest fantasy?"

Harry's breath hitches. Next to him, Perrie huffs out a bright laugh, and Zayn pets his back, like he knows what this question is doing to him. Harry shifts a bit to the left to make Zayn touching him impossible. No one needs to emphasise this. No one must know.

"And with dirtiest fantasy, I mean your _actual_ dirtiest fantasy. Like, what makes you come the hardest."

"Josh!" Jesy exclaims, digging her elbow into his side, but she laughs anyway as he ducks away.

Louis grins widely, his eyes almost sparkling as he contemplates.

"Hmm, let's see. There are many, I have to think for a bit."

Perrie rolls her eyes while Niall's expression burts of amusement. This game does it for him, it's so typically Niall.

When Louis opens his mouth again, he looks directly into Harry's eyes.

"My my, oh well! There's this one thing, like. I've always wanted to make someone call me Daddy while I have my cock in their arse."

"Oh GOD, no!" Jesy shouts with her hands pressed to her ears, only drowned out by Niall letting out a guffaw.

Harry feels his cheeks heating up, setting his whole body on fire, and Louis' eyes don't leave his face, not even when Leigh-Anne reaches over to slap his thigh.

"Louis! Nasty!"

He's laughing though, and when he lowers his gaze to spin the bottle, Harry lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He feels like he's going to black out.

The bottle lands on Zayn who's now lifting his head off Perrie's shoulder to look at Louis.

"You look evil, don't you even dare, Lou. I'll take truth."

"You're all so boring, hell!" Louis complains with a rude gesture, causing the circle to laugh.

"I'm not keen on dying so young mate." Zayn nuzzles his nose in Perrie's sweater. Harry rolls his eyes.

"Okay, well. Do you call Perrie names in bed?"

Perrie lets out an exasperated keen, and Zayn turns slightly red. Harry covers his ears. "Oh no, I don't wanna hear it," he proclaims, and Zayn shoots him an annoyed glare.

"So? Only the truth, that's the rules," Louis says with a feisty look.

Perrie mutters something under her breath, followed by Zayn saying "oh jesus, Louis. Yeah, sometimes."

"Ha! I knew it!" Louis shouts, getting fistbumped by Michael who's sitting next to him.

"Just wait until I get you," Zayn says in a threating voice, and then he spins the bottle.

It lands on Harry.

He only has to look up at Zayn's smug face to know he won't take dare.

"Truth," he says.

"Oh, come on!" Luke bellows, his voice annoyed. "It's getting boring."

"Yeah Harry, take dare, just once," Aiden says, the side of his head leaning against the radiator that heats up the room.

"I don't want to." He spares a glance at Zayn. "You look evil too, kiddo."

Zayn huffs out a laugh. "I promise, I won't do anything bad, really!"

Harry contemplates that for a brief moment.

"Pinky promise, Zayn."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Take dare, you idiot."

Harry bites his lip. "Yes, okay. Dare then."

Zayn rubs his hands. "Excellent. I dare you to snog Louis and call him Daddy."

Harry freezes. The whole circle cheers, Jesy drowning out the rest of them with a loud bark of laughter. He looks at Louis who only smirks at him.

"No," he simply states. His voice quavers a tad, but the others wouldn't notice, they're far too gone already.

"Oh come on, you wanker!" Zayn shouts. "It's a dare, you have to!"

Harry shoots him an angry glare. Zayn looks kind of determined. He fucking knows what this means for Harry, why the heck would he even say that?

"I won't do it," he repeats, and now Leigh-Anne reaches over to pinch _him_ in the thigh.

"Don't be a baby, Harry!" she sing-songs, and Harry could just punch all of them, honestly.

"Come on, Harry," Louis says from the other side of the circle. Harry looks over at him. "It's not a big deal, is it?"

And, well. Is it? It shouldn't be.

Zayn digs a finger into his side, and there's voices floating over him, exclaims of "oh, come on!" and "it's a dare, Harry, no ducking out!"

Harry takes a deep breath. This is a bad idea.

He's standing up slowly, and the cheering grows louder. He notices Niall falling on his back due to his overenthusiastic excitement, and when he's standing right in front of Louis, the other boy looks up at him, the smirk still present on his features, eyes glowing visibly under the ceiling light.

He gets on his knees a bit, and then there's hands on his thighs, pulling him onto Louis' lap. Leigh-Anne whistles in the background, but it's like all the noise around him is faded out by blue eyes staring up at him. His face is hovering over Louis', his hands come to rest on his shoulders, gripping the flesh tightly, and he feels muscles underneath, strongly constricting. The second time this evening, he feels Louis' breath ghosting over his face, warm and almost comforting if it wasn't for the still very tipsy daze Harry is in. He can't seem to focus on the sparkling blue of his eyes, so he focuses on Louis' lips instead. The other boy cranes his neck a little, and that's when his face casts forward, and his lips land on Harry's.

The cheering breaks through Harry's numbness for a brief moment before it fades out again, burned out by soft lips moving on his, a tongue fighting its way into his mouth, and then there's warmth spreading from there in his whole body, tingling in his fingers, making his toes curl. Louis tastes like vodka and weirdly enough, toothpaste, and he smells nice, even nicer, like heat and sparkles and sunshine.

Louis' hand tangles in Harry's hair, pulling him back a bit. His breathing is heavy when he whispers against Harry's lips, only mere inches apart. "What are you supposed to say, Harold?"

Harry has to fight a whimper when Louis' other hand wanders down his shoulderblades until it reaches the small of his back, fingers dangerously close to his bum.

"Huh?" Louis repeats, letting his hands go lower, squeezing, and _oh god,_ why the fuck does it matter anyway.

"Daddy," Harry breathes out, Louis' hand on his bum still moving.

"Daddy what?" Louis prods, nuzzling his nose in Harry's cheek.

"Please. Please, Daddy." And not even a second after that, Louis is kissing him again, moving his lips as familiar as if they've been doing this for years. Meanwhile, Louis' other hand has also wandered to Harry's bum, kneading Harry's arse cheeks while the other boy breathes heavily into his mouth. He only notices that he's started to grind down on Louis' lap when he hears a loud cough, and that's when he snaps out of his daze. He casts a glance down at Louis' face. His lips are red and swollen, his hair disheveled, a tint of red on his tanned cheeks. When he lifts his gaze to the others, he looks up to embarrassed faces, others looking shocked. The only still amused expression belongs to Zayn, who stares at Harry with the biggest smirk humanity has ever seen. That little fucker.

"So..." Jesy eventually says, and Harry feels like he must be the closest thing to a tomato a human being can ever become.

"Dude, are you like, gay or something?" Luke prods, face still half in shock, half in sincere curiosity.

Harry feels blood in his mouth. He'd bitten his cheek and he didn't even notice.

"Dunno. Looks like it, doesn't it."

"Yeah, well, it sure does!" Niall says, and then he's laughing, loudly, and everyone stares at him. He stands up dusting off his jeans from invisible dirt and wiping his eyes.

"Excellent, Harry. That might be the best thing about this night."

Harry stares at him.

"You're gay, Harry. That's so funny. Don't understand me wrong, mate, it's completely okay and all that shit, but that's seriously the best possible way to come out, ever."

He wipes his eyes again, then turning around, wandering off in direction of the kitchen. "Fabulous. I'm getting more booze!"

And that's it, then.

♡

They give up on playing truth or dare after that, Zayn claiming that Harry "ruined the whole thing and that nothing can top this anymore". So at 3.30 AM, Zayn and Calum start a new match of FIFA with everyone more or less sitting around them. Jesy has dozed off on the couch, and Michael's lying sprawled out on three cushions in a corner.

Harry's sitting next to Louis the whole time, sparks floating through his body every time their thighs brush, and when Louis eventually whispers "wanna get out of here?", Harry doesn't let him say it twice.

They toss the cab driver far more bucks than necessary, neither of them caring as they literally stumble through the door of Louis' flat.

Louis' bedroom is quiet, interrupted by the sound of teeth and lips crashing together, zippers being pulled open, shirts being lifted and carelessly tossed onto the floor. Louis' body is soft but at the same time muscular, and he lets out little delicious whimpers when Harry lets his hands wander over his torso.

When he finally gets his mouth on him, Louis bucks his hips up immediately, and Harry presses him down with an determined force, sinking down until his nose hits the tiny strands of curly hair at the base, breathing heavily through his nose and tickling Louis' belly with his breath, and when he pulls off, he huffs out a croaky "Daddy", and Louis nearly comes then and there.

Afterwards, they're lying in bed, lazily sprawled on the sheets. Harry's head is resting on Louis' naked chest, both sleepy from their orgasms, and Louis casts a hand through Harry's hair.

"I have the feeling you're a bit broke, Harold," Louis whispers just when Harry's about to fall asleep. He bites his lip but doesn't say anything.

Louis pulls him a bit tighter against his chest.

"That's not too bad," he huffs against his hair. "We'll see how to fix you."

**Author's Note:**

> pleeeease leave me a comment if you like it! oh, and talk to me, my tumblr is wolverhammtin.co.vu! :)


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